


Like a Kick to the Kidneys

by breatheforeverypart



Series: Natasha's Life [8]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashing, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jessica Jones mind is a dark place, M/M, Psychological Torture, Team as Family, The Avengers - Freeform, The Defenders - Freeform, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, aftermath of torture and rape, dogs are happy go lucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breatheforeverypart/pseuds/breatheforeverypart
Summary: Natasha is on a mission to deliver a check to a reclusive P.I. in Hell's Kitchen.  Jessica Jones is having a bad day.  Malcolm is attempting to fulfill his duties as an assistant to an enhanced traumatized P.I.
Relationships: Jessica Jones / Matt Murdock, Jessica Jones/Natasha Romanov, Matt Murdock / Foggy Nelson
Series: Natasha's Life [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758643
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Like a Kick to the Kidneys

***

“Lucky.” Natasha tugged on the dog’s leash. “That patch of grass can’t possibly be more interesting than a treat.” 

The one-eyed mutt leapt at her legs and woofed. He twirled in excited circles, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. 

Clint and the kids were visiting Laura’s parents before the holidays. Natasha was going to drive up to the farm and meet the family on Christmas Eve. In the meantime, Lucky was getting spoiled rotten by every Avenger who lived at the Tower. He wasn’t eating his usual number of socks, since Bruce had begun the trend of sharing all of his meals with dog. Lucky might actually get healthier during this vacation. Natasha considered the dog’s survival a miracle of modern veterinary medicine since Clint only fed it pizza until Natasha got involved. 

“Don’t tell Barton that I’ve got a heart.” Lucky snarfed the treat, leaving a slick trail of slobber up to the elbow of Natasha’s parka. 

They slipped into Jones’ building as a frazzled man and young child raced past them. Life in Stark’s Tower left Natasha isolated from the citizens of NYC. The normal sounds of city life followed Natasha up the stairs to Jess’s floor. She pushed the bar on the door and started to step into the hallway. Lucky resisted and Natasha heard the dog peeing. He took his time, starting and stopping the stream to sniff at whatever remains of food were piled in the corner. 

She inhaled to try and find her center. Banner had introduced her to yoga after her meltdown at Thanksgiving. In the present moment, Natasha couldn’t immediately discern the scent of urine. That was good. 

She felt along the slim pocket inside her coat for the check made out to Jessica Jones, P.I. At least the building seemed mostly empty. No one would notice Barton’s untrained dog desecrating an already decrepit stairwell. 

Lucky smiled at her and Natasha felt her face break into a smile. Crashing sounds caught her attention. Shouting and the shattering of objects combined with the man pacing in front of her friend’s door increased her heartrate. The corners of her mouth fell as she walked towards the illegal P.I. business and apartment. 

***

A slim man paced in front of the apartment at the end of the hall. “Malcolm. Hey.” Natasha called, Lucky lunging playfully towards the man. 

The man flinched at the sound of his name, like he was expecting a blow instead of words. “Oh. Hey.” He lifted a hand in greeting. 

Natasha closed the distance between them. Jones’ assistant was holding something to the left side of his face. Lucky immediately stuck his snout into the man’s privates, by way of greeting. 

“Oof.” Malcom said, doubling over at the waist. Condensation from the DIY ice pack dripped onto the dog’s head. 

“Lucky.” Natasha hissed. “Manners.” She yanked his leash and raised her hand. The dog’s butt hit the ground and he smiled goofily at her in an exaggerated sit. 

The window was shattered and Malcolm was holding a semi-defrosted bag of peas against his face. 

“What’s going on?” 

Another thud came from the apartment. Malcolm shuffled away from the door. “It’s worse than usual. I can almost always handle it, but.” He let the peas fall away from his face, revealing a swollen nasty cut that encircles one eye. “I tried calling Luke, but I couldn’t get through.”

“Ouch.” Natasha handed Lucky to the P.I. in training and pulled her hair back. “Is she armed?” Natasha tried to slow her heartrate and shift into a tactical mindset. She had only worked with Jones on a couple of occasions. The woman kicked ass, but drank too much for her liking. If Yelena were around, Natasha felt certain they would be friends. Or at least drinking buddies. 

Malcolm let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Does she need to be?” 

“True.” Natasha recalled watching Jess yank a steel door off its hinges and tossed it twenty feet into a dumpster. The weak addict who stood before her was no physical match for Jones. She might require Cage’s help to subdue her. “Stay here. I’ll tell you when it’s safe.” 

Malcolm slumped against the wall, and grimaced when he noticed the shards of glass and inch or so from his butt. Lucky licked the defrosting bag on the floor beside the man. Malcom hovered in a squat and ripped open the bag of veggies for Lucky. 

She extracted a Widow bite and weighted knife from one of the many concealed pockets. “Be good boys.” She said as she undid the deadbolt to the apartment, by reaching through the broken window. 

***

“Smile Jessie.” 

The mirror shattered. She looked at her hand, blood racing down her wrist towards the elbow. Spots burst across her vision. A body pressed against her back. 

Her mouth broke into a wide grin. Her muscles quivered as she resisted the command. 

“Don’t move until I get back.”

“You look good enough to eat darling.” He brushed her lips and disappeared out of view. 

She could not see where he went. Her body remained paralyzed, unable to move even a pinky without his assent. 

The apartment slid in an out of focus, like she was on a boat. He was here, he had found her again. He wasn’t dead. “Main Street.” Jessica pounded a fist into her thigh, trying to use the only grounding strategy she ever tried. The stupidly over-priced headshrinker made her repeat every street she’d ever lived on. Sometimes it worked, sometimes Kilgrave laughed at her from inside her brain. 

The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Someone was in the apartment. “Shit.” She stumbled out of the bedroom, snagging a box of case files that must have weighed 20 pounds. 

A red-haired woman trailed glass further into her apartment. “Hey Jones.” 

“You’re not Malcolm.” Jess hefted the box above her head, narrowing her eyes at the intruder.

“Papers?” Natasha quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you toss a car with less effort.” 

“Fuck you.” Jess retorted. “Where’s your cat suit? I thought you Avengers never left your Tower in street clothes.” 

Natasha took a beat to take in Jess’s appearance. The dark circles that rimmed her eyes told a familiar story. She had observed Jones’ battle with Kilgrave close to a year ago. She knew as well as any survivor that a tormentor’s death did signal an end to the nightmares. 

The box of papers tumbled to the floor. Paper flew in every direction and Jess fell to her knees. 

“Jones.” Natasha stuffed her weapons back into her coat. “Talk to me.” 

Jessica’s face contorted in agony. “He’s back.” She said, her voice tight with emotion. “He’s back.” 

Natasha sank to her level, squatting over manila files. “Who?” 

The woman froze, as if unaware that she was not alone. Jessica shuddered and clamped her hands over her ears. She screamed and began to beat her skull with closed fists. 

Malcolm entered the apartment, carrying Lucky in his arms. “Oh fuck.” He said, the dog licking at his scabbed cheek. He dumped the dog on the couch and wove his fingers through patches of tight curls. 

“Call Murdock.” Natasha ordered. She tried and failed to interrupt the woman’s attempts to cave in her own skull. “Unless you want me to knock her out.” She asked hopefully. 

“I don’t think she’d like that.” Malcom frantically scanned through his contacts for the law offices of Nelson, Murdock and Page. 

Natasha wrapped her legs around Jess’s waist. She opted for a new strategy and laced her fingers through Jessica’s. She strained to pry the woman’s hands away from her scalp. Natasha couldn’t think of anything to say. She was a shitty friend and terrible at comforting. On bad nights, Clint and James would interrupt her attempts to hurt herself, take turns telling stories and keep her safe. 

Natasha locked her feet to resist Jessica’s bucking. “Jones, stop. Listen, you’re okay. He’s not here.” 

She sobbed, but did stop straining against Natasha. She sagged in her arms and resumed tearing at her hair. 

“He did that you know. He gave directions, and you have no choice, but to obey. That’s why she listens, even when she’s trying to beat herself into a pulp.” Malcolm’s phone pinged. “Murdock will be here in 10.” 

“He’s probably taking a shortcut.” Natasha commented, squeezing Jessica’s hands. She tried to trick the woman’s fingers into relaxing. The blood coating her own hands, told her that it wasn’t working. 

***

He stalked her as she walked to the dining room. “There’s my girl.” 

“Isn’t it lovely? Say thank you Jessie.” A zombie like delivery man handed Kilgrave two bulging brown paper bags of take-out. 

“Thank you.” She repeated. Panic was liquifying her insides and no one was going to rescue her. 

“With a smile.” He snapped, walking towards her. “Aren’t you an ungrateful brat?” He tossed back the rest of the liquor and shattered the tumbler against the table. 

Her mouth pulled into a position that pained her jaw. She felt like a doll, her expression painted on. Tears welled in her eyes. 

“Don’t cry”! He snapped, backhanding her. “We are happy. Look at your new home, I bought this for you.” 

Jessica bit the inside of her cheek, but found herself unable to cry. She wanted to scream that he didn’t buy the apartment. He manipulated everyone around him, he never paid for shit. He didn’t ask. He assumed and took everything he wanted by force. 

“Oh Jessie. Don’t be upset. Everything is alright now.” His face mimicked compassion and Jessica found herself in his arms. “Hold me. Tell me you love me Jessica”. He murmured against her neck, kissing her skin between words. 

She answered, her mouth forming the speech that she did not want to say. 

She hoped death would be quick. She was working on a plan. Most of her time with him had been hazy, since she had been drugged and stun gunned into a stupor. So far, he had thwarted her every attempt. After her last try, Kilgrave had handcuffed her to the grab bar in the shower anytime he left the apartment. 

He traced her breast with a finger and reached for her pants. “Show me you love me.” 

The last of her defiance evaporated as she disappeared into her mind. She fantasized about her death as Kilgrave controlled her mind and body like a puppet. 

***

Murdock arrived at the apartment. “How long?” 

Lucky stretched on the couch and barked to indicate the stranger’s presence a full minute after Matt entered the space. 

Natasha shrugged. “I got here in the middle.” Jessica had stopped actively trying bash her brains. She settled into tugging at her hair. Natasha was trying to gather it and pull it back, out of her reach. 

Matt ditched the cane at the door and removed his suit jacket. He tilted his head in Jess’s direction. “She’s not drunk.” There were notes of surprise in his voice. 

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at the vigilante lawyer. “You also have super-senses, sometimes I forget that.” 

He smiled at her and Natasha understood how he got the reputation for charming the pants off of all the people in Hell’s Kitchen. 

“Jones.” Matt joined her on the floor. “Is she bleeding?” 

“Sort of.” Natasha acknowledged. “Does she have a first aid kit?” Before she finished asking the question, she knew the answer. The office part of Jones’ apartment was orderly. Malcolm took his job of being her P.I. trainee seriously. Natasha assumed that any groceries in the kitchen cupboards were courtesy of his shopping. She did not seem like the kind of person to take care of herself. 

“Probably not.” He pocketed his glasses to reveal a neat row of stitches that stemmed from an eyebrow. Foggy had called Claire to their apartment last night when he’d gotten home from patrol and bled all over their recently renovated bathroom. The poor woman had just come off a shift at Metro General and still expertly stitched his wound. “We tend to rely on Temple for our medical needs.” 

Jessica wretched her wrists out of Natasha’s grasp. “Birch Street.” She rasped. 

“Higgins Drive.” Matt added, rocking back on his heels. At least she was forming words, his enhanced ears could barely detect her slur. 

Jones squinted at the lawyer. “Cobalt Lane.” She exhaled a shaky breath as her hands fell to her sides. 

“Are you with us?” 

“I’d rather not be.” Jones groaned. “Fuck.” She lifted a hand to her head. 

Natasha gently pulled Jess’s hand back towards her lap. “Let’s get you cleaned up first.” 

She blinked at the famous woman in slow recognition. “Romanov. Why are you in my apartment?” 

“Well, I have a check for services rendered courtesy of Tony Stark. I stumbled into this mess by accident.” Natasha frowned at the glass embedded in the back of the investigator’s hand. “You punched through the window?” 

“Sweet! We can pay rent.” Malcolm pumped a fist in the air. “And yes, she did. Right through the custom glass and into my face. Trish said it cost a fortune. She’s messengering over a new pane and set of locks.” 

Jess winced at the mention of her oldest on-again, off-again friend’s name. “Don’t Malcolm. I’m too sober for that conversation.” 

“And with your probable concussion, Claire told me to threaten you with bodily harm if you try to imbibe tonight.” Natasha began plucking shards out of the wound. “Anyone have a paper towel?” 

Jessica rolled her eyes and accused her sister in arms. “Snitch.” Her head throbbed worse than any hangover she’d had the pleasure of living with, at least that she could remember. Kilgrave’s voice still whispered to her, but it took a backseat to the self-inflicted injuries. Trauma was a bitch. 

So, Jessica had resigned herself to being stuck on the couch. She had her laptop balanced on the small end table next to the sofa. Murdock and Malcolm were laying on their stomachs, halfheartedly assembling the complicated security apparatus. Natasha scrolled through her phone with her head propped up on an elbow. At least this prison had food coming, Jessica reasoned as she transferred files to a thumb-drive. 

***

Just after six, Foggy arrived with assorted take-out. He had his phone held between his ear and shoulder and was hugging double bagged steaming containers of deliciousness. He sighed at the sight of the busted door. Natasha got the feeling that Foggy took a lot of antacids to cope with the stress of dating a vigilante. Jessica got herself into nearly as many dangerous situations as Matt did. 

“Grub’s here!” Matt announced. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with assembling the afternoon’s deliveries. “Can I take a break?” He asked Jones. When he cocked his head and smiled, Murdock resembled an adorable puppy. 

Jess examined the jumble of metal parts that was supposed to be her new state of the art security system. Not that extra locks would save her door from herself. Jessica was freshly showered, bundled and bandaged on her couch. 

Natasha had aligned herself in such a way that she was blocking Jessica’s ability to leave the sofa. She had slung one leg across Jones’ lap, like a muscled seatbelt. 

It was safer than the alternative. Natasha had threatened to pin her to the cushion with throwing stars if she didn’t stop trying to stand up. Okay, so James was correct. She definitely lacked ‘people skills’ on her resume, but Natasha was doing her best. 

The first four times that Jones had lapsed back into flashbacks, she’d managed to blackened Malcolm’s other eye, dent the refrigerator and crack several tiles in her laughably small tub. It took all of the adults and a whining Lucky to drag Jessica from the bathroom to the couch. Natasha had made the executive decision to keep the P.I. on couch-rest for the remainder of the evening. 

“Holy crap.” The phone dropped into the bag of take-out. “Matty, you did not tell me the Black Widow was here.” Foggy’s skin flushed fire engine red from head to toe. 

“Oops. Sorry.” Matt grinned, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Yeah, she came before Malcolm got in touch with Karen. Speaking of, where is your dapper P.I. in training?” 

Jessica raised her eyebrows in question. “I dunno.” She deferred to Nat. She was fuzzy on the details of the last couple of hours. If Jess was truly honest with herself, she would admit that she had not slept in several days. When she had managed to sleep, it was more that she passed out in her shower, instead of her bed. One of her newer cases had clearly triggered her paranoia. “Smile, Jessie. Your friends are here.” Jessica suppressed a full-body shudder. 

“He went home after I found him an Advil.” Natasha called Lucky over to the couch. “Up. Now, stay. Don’t let her move.” 

Lucky slurped at Jessica’s face. She glowered at the dog, and held her arms over her chest. It was a pretty convincing impression of a tantrum-ing toddler.

“When did you get a dog?” Foggy asked. He set the bags on the table. 

“That’s Lucky. Hawkeye’s mutt.” Matt wrinkled his nose in Foggy’s direction. “He stinks, but he’s alright.”

Foggy laughed. “Wow. That’s high praise. I can’t believe you paid a compliment to an animal. Does this mean we can get a pet?” 

“No.” Matt accepted Foggy’s hand and was hauled to his feet. The couple divided the food evenly and passed cans of seltzer around. 

“You know what would make this better?” Jessica gulped the carbonated water. 

“No.” Natasha and Matt said at the same time. Matt held out his fist and Natasha bumped it, at least they were on the same page when it came to Jessica’s temporary sobriety. 

“You guys shouldn’t work together.” Jessica shoveled drunken noodles into her mouth and angrily stabbed a dumpling with a chopstick. 

“Too bad, Jones. Matt extracted a large stalk of steamed broccoli and sniffed. “Consider this babysitting payback for the time you knocked me out.”

“She WHAT?” Foggy’s sweet and sour chicken slipped from between his chopsticks. Lucky gobbled the dropped treats and started licking the lawyer’s pants. 

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Relax Nelson. It was so Claire could stitch up his back.” Natasha bit back a laugh and nudged Jessica with her foot. 

Foggy groaned. “I knew you were lying about slipping in the subway. Matty, you’re gonna give me an ulcer.” 

***

Natasha drew the chain and double-checked the lock. Foggy and Matt made their way down the hall, towards the dingy stairwell. The apartment was quiet, save for Lucky snoring at Jones’ feet. 

“I didn’t know they were together.” 

Jessica stretched an arm over her head and burped. “It’s sickeningly sweet. They don’t bother to hide it anymore, since Karen caught them making out in Matt’s office.” 

Natasha reached the couch and crossed her legs. “Subtle as a kick to the kidneys. For a vigilante, he should be more careful about his identity.” 

“Being blind isn’t covert enough?” She picked at a hole in her flannel pajamas bottoms. “Shit, you’re the master spy. We just make it up as we go.” 

Natasha shrugged noncommittally. “Eh.” She dismissed her own experiences as professional training with a wave of her hand. “What are you up for? Claire says you should stay awake for the night.” 

“Great. Now I’ll be awake without the benefit of booze.” Jessica closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I never sleep without it. Just fucking kill me.”

Natasha studied the woman. She was softly banging the back of her head against the top of the couch. Her face was purposely construed to look angry. Under the anger was fear, exhaustion, and pain. Natasha was familiar with these emotions, even though she liked to live in denial. “Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asked lamely. She knew the answer before she asked, Clint and James had found more creative ways to ascertain her state of mind. Natasha had to learn how to communicate with Jones. 

Jessica quirks an eyebrow before slowly raising her middle finger. 

The television hummed in the background. Natasha continued to stare at the P.I. Jessica bounced her knees, tapped her foot and drummed her fingers on the furniture. Anything to avoid the communication. 

Natasha smirked. “You would be terrible in a torture situation. You have no patience.” 

“Oh, screw you.” Jessica snapped. “You’re the one that took away my coping mechanism.” 

She chose to ignore the defensive remark. “So, what are you working on?” 

Jessica slid her computer onto her lap. Her fingers flew over keys. “Nothing that would interest you.” 

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.” Natasha craned her neck to get a better view of the screen. “May I?” 

“The Black Widow has manners?”

“I’m full of surprises.” Natasha deadpanned. Headlines caught her attention. Local abductions and profiles of missing girls. Dozens of articles popped up in their own tabs. “How recent are these?” 

Jessica shoved the computer in the Widow’s direction. “All of these have taken place over the last two weeks. Some asshole is moving fast. Too fast to be careful, and cover their tracks.” 

Jones was good, she did good work for a Private Investigator. Natasha scanned the material, not all of it was obtained legally, but it was a start. “What else have you got?” 

“Plenty.” Jessica briefly met the woman’s gaze before returning her attention to the laptop. If she couldn’t drown her demons in alcohol, she would settle for an evening of mind-numbing research.

**Author's Note:**

> The end of this story is loosely tied to my 'Jones-ing for a Purpose' and 'Seven Devils' series. The work that Natasha and Jessica team up to do to take down a human trafficking ring is referenced in each of these stories. I may eventually write a story that flushes out all of these details, but for now I'm writing one-shots!


End file.
